


Seasons

by NorthernSerpent



Series: Falice: From A to Z [19]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Greendale, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Moving, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-11 10:43:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernSerpent/pseuds/NorthernSerpent
Summary: Absence makes their hearts grow fonder.OR The Cooper girls move to Greendale and Alice and FP grow closer despite the distance.





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

> -the outline for this story was written long before the Riverdale’s S3 premiere and before I knew that the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina was going to be at thing. So no Gargoyle King, no cult, and we're going to pretend Archie never went to prison.
> 
> -This fic’s version of Greendale is mostly based on my fuzzy childhood comic book memories and the Easter eggs scattered in season 2 of Riverdale. In keeping with the spirit of the show, I tried to keep the location and demographics of Greendale as vague as possible. Having said that, I’ve always assumed that Greendale is about a 40-60 minute drive to Riverdale - close enough to pop by once in a while, but far enough for it to be inconvenient and for new drivers (Jughead & Archie) to be wary of making the trek in the dark.

Betty doesn't take the news as well as Alice had hoped which is remarkable since the bar was set incredibly low. She expected a fight. Maybe a door slam and the silent treatment for three days. Worst case scenario is crocodile tears followed by emancipation papers Alice would never _ ever  _ consider signing. 

Alice had spent the past week making pro/con lists, developing arguments and counterarguments, writing out six drafts of a speech before getting the courage to sit her daughter down and tell her that they are moving to Greendale before the start of the fall term.

She hadn’t actively been looking for a job; she just kind of fell into it. Not long after Hiram Lodge bought out her share of  _ The Register _ , the Black Hood was unmasked, and the Southside burned to the ground, Alice had decided that she needed a much-deserved break. She had the means; why not do it?

She had underestimated how  _ bored  _ she would be. Once Polly returned to The Farm and Betty started her plethora of summer activities, there wasn’t much else to do other than hide from the press. Alice had already crocheted several tea cozies to distribute at Christmas. And there were only so many memories to scrapbook and so many times she could rearrange her furniture.

Somewhere around Week 4 of her self-imposed Staycation, Alice stumbled across an ad for a position with the  _ Greendale Gazette _ . 

She hadn’t actually considered the possibility that she would get an interview, let alone the job on the spot. It all happened so quickly; she barely had any time to process. 

Alice had considered the possibility of commuting. Greendale is close, but it’s still not  _ that _ close. That road is terrifying at night and every good Riverdalian knows not to trek that way after midnight. Between animal crossings and patches of black ice, accidents are common along the dark stretch between the two towns. The job will require some crazy hours, so relocating is really the best option.

Unfortunately, Betty doesn’t see it that way.

“I’m not going.”

Alice’s carefully crafted arguments were forgotten in the wake of good old fashioned teenage rebellion.

“Elizabeth, you don't have a choice in the matter, “ she takes a breath. “I know it feels like moving is the end of the world - “

“Please. In the span of a week I found out the person I thought was my brother was an imposter, my boyfriend was beaten within an inch of his life, and The Black Hood ended up being my father. I know what the end of the world feels like. This isn't it. This is running away.”

 

-

 

“Betty’s moving,” Jughead slumps into the kitchen chair. 

FP looks up from the newspaper he had been squinting at. He couldn’t be bothered to grab his glasses from his truck. “Boy, what are you talking about?”

“She just called. Her mom got a job in Greendale so they’re moving in a few weeks.”

“Damn. That’s… soon,” he folds the paper and places it in front of him. He hadn’t realized Alice had been looking for another job.  He doesn’t quite know what to do with this information.

“How’s Betty taking it?”

“Not well,” Jughead sighs. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“It’s not our place,” FP says to his son, despite the fact that he recognizes the struggle in Jughead’s eyes. He feels it too. “You know, given all that’s happened, it might be good for them to start fresh somewhere else.”

“Riverdale is their home!” Jughead protests. 

“Jughead, I know how much you love Riverdale, but Alice has a really good career opportunity. And who knows? It might be good for Betty to be around people who don’t have any preconceived notions about her family.”

“You mean, people who don’t know her as the _ Black Hood’s crazy daughte _ r?” Jughead spits bitterly. “Alice should be helping her face it, not running away like a coward.”

“Son, there’s no shame in wanting to get out of Riverdale,” FP stresses firmly. The town is his home, but it’s far from a utopia. “Alice isn’t running away. She’s just moving towards something else.”

“I guess…” Jughead sighs again. “Dad, we broke up when I was at Southside High. What if that happens again?”

“Jug, it’s different now. You’re different now. You’ve been through so much together and your relationship is stronger than when you were at Southside High,” he pauses. “If you want to help Betty, make sure she knows that.”

 

-

 

Alice thinks about putting her house in the market, but Fred points out that it might be hard to to find a buyer given the notoriety of the house (which of course is another thing Hal had to fuck up for her).

Not to mention the riots and dead bodies dropping around town in the last year did nothing to aid the housing market. 

It gives her a headache and she decides it would be easier to just rent it to the homeless serpents. The HOA is up in arms about it, but she's the only one on the board who ever had any power so it’s a non-issue.

On the bright side, helping the Serpents and keeping her daughters’ childhood home helps Alice score some points with her defiant daughter.

 

-

 

The leaves are starting to be tinted more yellow than green when Fangs gives her a call to say that the cellar door is broken.

Suddenly everything makes sense when Alice realizes that's how her girls have snuck in and out all these years. 

“Don’t worry about it, Fangs. I’ll have someone on it ASAP,” she says in what she hopes is a reassuring tone. The poor kid was almost lynched and doesn't need to worry about being unsafe in his own home.

She calls FP.

“Hey stranger,” she starts. “Can you do me a favour?”

Butterflies are restless in her stomach which is ridiculous because she knows he’ll help her no matter what. He always does.

“Shoot.”

“Can you stop by the house and check on the cellar door?” she says sweetly with honey dripping on every word. “I’ll pay you in burgers.”

FP laughs on the other end and firmly tells her there's no need for payment, he'd happily help out. 

A few hours later, her phone lights up and she has a picture of a fixed door sitting in her inbox. She’s a little impressed because she didn't know he knew how to use the camera on his phone.

She calls Pop's and convinces new owner Veronica to let her prepay some burgers.

“Just don’t let FP know it’s from me.”

“Not to worry, Mrs C. Your secret is safe from me. I'll tell him it was anonymous donation.”

The next day, FP calls her to protest.

“I told you not to worry about paying me!”

“I don't know what you're talking about, FP,” she states with a crook of an eyebrow he won't be able to see. 

He grumbles for a bit, but she knows he appreciated the free burger and soon she's telling him about her new job and her strange neighbours who she can’t tell are lesbians or sisters. He reciprocates by catching her up on what’s going on with the Ghoulies and other town gossip (which somehow always seems to involve the Lodge Family in some way). Somehow 42 minutes go by and she’s forgotten why FP called in the first place. 

When she hangs up, it’s back to normal. Back to chasing stories, unpacking the last of the boxes, to the sub-par Greendale burgers.

Back to real life. 

 

-

  
  


While Jughead visits Greendale at least three days of the week, FP falls into a much needed routine.

Construction season is coming to a close, and Fred is scrambling to get his contracts completed before the first snowfall. FP offers to help without any hesitation, and before he knows it, he’s up before the sun, wearing steel toed boots and a yellow hard hard. He spends his evenings at Pop’s, planning the opening of the Speakeasy with the only decent Lodge in the world - Veronica has big ideas, but she’s still very new to this world.

And in the few hours of spare time that he has, FP gladly spends it acting as Alice’s property manager.

According to Jughead, Alice loosened up a bit in Greendale. She allows Jughead to visit on school nights, as long as he’s out the door at a reasonable time. But she is still Alice. She will not be the one responsible for him hitting a moose on the way home.  And she will not let him drive her daughter to Riverdale on the back of his motorcycle, which FP figures is a fair stipulation. That stretch of road is very unpredictable. 

The first time FP sees Betty after the big move is on a Saturday. He takes the kids to Pop’s and laughs with Jughead as Betty scarfs down her fries.

“What? There are no decent fries in Greendale!” she complains between bites. “God, I miss this place.”

“Pop’s food is what I missed most while I was in prison,” FP comments. 

Jughead gasps loudly and puts a hand over his heart feigning agony. “What about me? Your flesh and blood?”

“Boy, you were calling multiple times a day. Didn’t give me any time to miss you!” he jokes and the kids laugh. It’s surreal that they’re in a place where they can joke about these things. “Now when all you have to eat is lukewarm mush, you’ll appreciate Pop’s too.”

“I think Jug already appreciates Pop’s plenty,” Betty smiles, and Jughead shrugs nonchalantly.

FP smirks and takes a sip from his soda. “So how’s Baxter High treating you, Betty? What’s it like being The New Girl.”

It must have been the right thing to ask, because Betty launches into a soliloquy about how she has a whole new appreciation for Veronica who had made such a seamless transition last year. 

And yeah, Betty complains about how the town is stuck in the 60s and everyone is obsessed with Halloween, how she misses her friends. Then she tells them that finding an injured deer is a weekly occurrence. But she doesn’t seem to completely  _ hate _ the place. Baxter High is tough, but it’s a good school, and a disproportionate amount of its students end up accepted in Ivy League schools.

When she pauses to breathe, FP slips in a question that he’s been burning to ask. “How’s your mom?” 

“Okay, I guess,” Betty shrugs. “She’s always working. Between my schedule and hers, I barely see her! But busy is good. She seems... _ better _ . Like she has purpose. More like... _ before _ .”

Before her life imploded.   
  


-

 

“Are you going to homecoming?” Betty mentions it to Alice over breakfast one morning. 

It had honestly slipped her mind. “Probably not.”

Alice mistakenly thinks that the end of that conversation.

Betty sips her orange juice and eyes Alice warily. 

“Mom, you haven't been back to Riverdale since we moved. It might be nice to go back and see some familiar faces.”

“Maybe,” she says with an eye roll but Betty interprets it as a hard yes. 

Later that day, Betty texts her and says they are going to the Jones Trailer for dinner before the game and subsequent dance.

She crinkles her nose. Since when does FP cook?

When the night arrives, she finds out that he doesn't and she’s a little relieved that things haven’t changed too drastically in her absence. He orders everything he can from Pop's and displays it on his kitchen counter. 

“You did this?” she asks softly, out of earshot of Betty and Jughead who are watching some video in the living room.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs like he had no other choice. "I figured what's more Riverdale than Pop's?"

She blames the tie. And the kindness and the way his eyes crinkle in the corner when he looks at her like  _ That _ . But it’s mostly the tie which is begging Alice to wrap her fingers in it to pull him close.

“I've missed you,” it slips out and she’s almost mortified. 

“I missed you too,” he smiles. “Now let’s eat!”

After the most delicious meal she’s had in ages, Betty and Jughead leave ahead of them to meet the rest of their friends at the game. It feels like this moment will never come again, that this is her last shot, so Alice tugs him by the tie that’s been driving her crazy all night and kisses his cheek.

It's supposed to be chaste. A friendly thank you.

When she pulls back, her lipstick is smudged on his face and he has a lopsided grin. 

“Don't look so smug,” she huffs.

Then he catches her lips with his and she's a little stunned at first. Because he's FP and he's kissing her and she'd forgotten just how _ good _ that can be.

Soon her back is pressed into the wall and her dress is hitched around her waist. Her nylons are ruined but she doesn’t care because his face is between her quivering legs making her scream.

In that moment, that’s all that matters.

 

-

 

“Stop looking at me like that.”

After her breathing evens out a bit, Alice incredibly annoyed with how damn pleased he looks. It’s embarrassing how easily he make her fall apart.

He chuckles before kissing her thoroughly again. She can taste herself on him and she feels another surge of arousal go through her.

“You ready to head out, Alice? It’s probably halftime now,” he rests his forehead against hers, making her heart flutter. He traces her lip with his thumb. “You might want to redo your lipstick.”

“Fuck it, let’s skip the game.” She pushes FP towards the couch and kicks off her pumps. It’s been a while since she’s seen all of his tattoos. His eyes widen in surprise but judging by the bulge in his dress pants, this isn’t an unwelcome move. “This is way more fun than freezing in the bleachers. If anybody asks where we were, we can tell them you pissed me off.”

“I’ll tell them you were asking for it.”

“Okay fine,” she’s not in the mood for logistics at the moment. Alice turns around and pushes her hair over her shoulder so he can better see the zipper down her back. “Now help me get out of this dress.”

 

-

 

Later, they explain away their tardiness at the dance by telling Betty and Jughead that the battery in her car died and they couldn’t find jumper cables to give it a boost. The teens easily accept the lie before running back onto the dance floor.

FP and Alice sit at a table on the sidelines and it’s like nothing happened at all when they’re joined by Fred and the former Sheriff Keller who came to ask about her new life.

Alice doesn’t stay too long. She can’t; she’s on a tight schedule. Like Cinderella before her, she has to be home by midnight, before the roads get too dangerous. Before the spell is broken. 

 

-

FP has made a lot of mistakes in his life and sex with Alice is probably one of them. He doesn’t regret it; it was the best time he’s had in a long time. 

And even though everything with Gladys imploded spectacularly, stuff with Alice seemed to have stayed… okay. Maybe because this time they are separated by Sweetwater River instead of the tracks. Or maybe it’s because they’ve grown up and they’re not trying to make eachother hurt as much as possible anymore. 

FP doesn’t think too much about it. Alice’s life is in Greendale now and he's stuck in Riverdale. 

-

 

Jellybean introduces FP to emojis much to her amusement and Jughead’s embarrassment. He changes his son’s name in his contact list to a hamburger emoji, Fred is that smiling face with the halo, and FP is incredibly disappointed when he can’t find a jellybean for his baby girl.

It seems that people only text him when they have a specific question, or if they need something.

But not Alice aka the white rabbit emoji.

She sends him a picture of a deer she found on the side of the road with the caption  _ Now do you believe Betty? _

He texts Alice the most random things in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep. She doesn’t seem to care. She even seems vaguely amused by it when she reads it in the morning.

_ Alice, I just learned that avocado comes from an Aztec word for testicle and now that’s all I can think about. _

Three hours later, while he’s finally snoring, his phone buzzes with a response.

_ Thanks for that. I was going to have avocado and toast for breakfast. Now I can’t. _

Later she sends him a picture of a creepy fish with feet.   _ That’s for ruining my meal. _

 

**-**

 

“Are Jughead and FP doing anything for Thanksgiving?” 

“He hasn’t mentioned anything,” Betty raised a cautious eyebrow as her mother crochets on the couch. “Why?”

“I’m thinking of making a turkey, but that would be too much for just the two of us,” she expertly continues to hook the yarn through her hook. “Maybe they could come here for dinner? We could play some board games or watch a movie afterwards.”

Betty blinks. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll call them right now.”

  
  


-

  
  


On the fourth Thursday of November, Alice is flitting about her kitchen with her record player blasting and she doesn’t hear the doorbell ring. 

“Smells good, Al,” the deep voice behind her makes her jump.

“Shit, FP,” she scolds. “Don’t do that to me.”

He grins. “Do you need any help?”

Alice carefully places strips of dough over her cherry pie. “Everything is under control. Once I’m done with this, all we have to do is wait and I’m all yours.”

“All mine, hm?” FP wags his eyebrows. 

If Alice was smart, she would roll her eyes, tell him to get his mind out of the gutter. But now he’s in her kitchen that she’s thinking about it, she wouldn’t be totally opposed. 

“If Betty and Jughead leave us alone, sure,” she smiles wickedly at his dumbfounded expression. “You can have me any way you want.”

Two and half hours later, after consuming an absurd amount of food, Betty drags Jughead out the door. Alice’s heart in thumping in her chest. She hadn’t actually thought she would be left alone with FP.

“I ate too much,” Betty complains. “I need to walk it off.”

“Don’t forget a scarf!” Alice calls after her. “It’s cold!”

The door shuts and FP and Alice wait with baited breath for the two teens to make it down the driveway.

“And then there were two…” FP wraps his arms around her waist and she lets out a shuddering breath. “Does this mean I get you any way I want?”

“I’m a woman of my word,” Alice manages before his lips are crashing down on hers. 

They don’t have time to catch up like old friends. He bends her over her dining room table, pulling her skirt up in one fluid motion. It's fast and fun and rough, and FP keeps cracking her up with increasingly lewd suggestions about what he’s going to do with her. Or at least she'll start to laugh, but then his fingers pinch her nipple and stroke her ass and her giggles turn to moans. Soon he’s inside of her and obeying her instructions of  _ harder, FP, harder _ . 

He pulls out of her and comes in her panties and it’s honestly one of the hottest things she’s ever seen in her life.

FP collapses in a chair. “We’re a lot better at that than we used to be.”

Alice tenses at the mention of their past. They were doing such a good job of putting it behind them. 

“You owe me two pairs of tights now,” she states as she slips off nylons and ruined underwear. As much as it had turned her on a minute ago, it wouldn’t do to have evidence of their indiscretion dripping down her legs.

“Are you complaining?”

“That’s not the point, FP,” Alice smacks his arm lightly. He catches her wrist and kisses it. She closes her eyes and sighs, allows herself to enjoy the moment. “What the hell are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” he strokes the back of her hand with his thumb. “What I do know is that I’m very thankful to have you in my life.”

“That is so vague,” Alice laughs. “But seriously. Hal and Gladys aren’t in the picture anymore. Why not have fun every once in a while when we see each other? It’s clearly not damaging our friendship.”

In fact, it was probably helping. They hadn’t yelled at each other in a while. 

He chuckles before kissing her softly. He rests his forehead on hers. 

“I’m going to get cleaned up,” she says softly as she backs away from FP. “You should check the mirror before Betty and Jughead get back. My lipstick is all over you.”

 

-

 

After the Jones men leave for home, Betty hugs her mother. “Thanks for putting in an effort. It means a lot.”


	2. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying a new formatting thing. Let me know what you think of it.

The days get shorter and shorter while the nights take over. The snow has yet to make an appearance and the bright lights on rooftops are the only thing that hold the promise of Christmas.

It's three days before Christmas, and for once in his life, he's almost done his shopping. Normally the holidays creep up on him, but this year he is prepared. Jughead is easy - a new accessory for his bike should do. Jellybean is harder, but he scrapes together some money for a wicked pair of noise-canceling Bluetooth headphones. He won’t get to see his daughter’s reaction for the second Christmas in a row, and yeah, maybe he’s overcompensating because he really really needs her to love it.

Then there is Alice.

Alice is the kind of woman who buys her Christmas cards in July and keeps a list of who got which card to avoid duplicates. She clips coupons, argues with poor sales associates about price-matching, maps out Black Friday shopping routes. Her ability to bargain is the only part of her that has stayed consistently Southside her entire life.

She’s the kind of woman who spends months collecting small items here and there to later tie them together in an elaborate gift basket. 

Her gifts are as always as useful as they are thoughtful. 

Which makes shopping for her a total pain in the ass.

According to Jughead, Betty had a hard time coming up with gift ideas, and they live together for fucks sake. If Alice wanted anything, Betty would know.

Is he supposed to get her gift? Or would she read too much into it? But if he doesn’t get her anything, she might read into that too…

He lets his head fall to his hands. It’s a Catch-22.

He has no idea what's an appropriate gift. One that doesn't scare her away with sentimentality, or one that shows too little - they are friends now after all.

But most importantly, what does one buy somebody who already has everything?

He turns to Veronica for advice because she just happens to be around. She’s the the only other person in the Speakeasy while he mops the floors. She’s sitting at the counter, crunching numbers when FP decides _ what the hell? _

“Hey. Boss Lady. I need shopping advice.”

Immediately intrigued, she peers at him over glasses. “Go on…”

“I’m taking part in a Secret Santa exchange and I pulled somebody who is impossible to shop for,” he lies smoothly. Veronica doesn’t need to know who he’s buying for. It would cause too much chaos.

“What makes them hard to shop for?” Veronica asks, gears visibly running in her head. “Are they too critical? Have specific tastes?”

“She has everything! If she wants something, she buys it. What the hell do I get her?”

“Oh that’s easy,” Veronica smiles. “For somebody like that, you don’t get them  _ stuff _ . You give them an  _ experience _ .”

Her wise words ring in his head the rest of the day.  Eventually something clicks. He knows exactly what kind of experience he’ll be giving Alice.

 

-

 

Polly is home for the holidays this year which is surreal enough on its own. Alice’s nomadic daughter is sitting cross-legged in the Greendale living room floor entertaining the twins with FP by her side, and Alice wonders if she's crossed into the Twilight Zone. Betty is curled into Jughead’s side while Bruce Willis fights some terrorists because according to the Jones Boys,  _ Die Hard _ is a quintessential Christmas movie. Alice excuses herself from the horrible movie, opting to empty out the dishwasher and do something productive with her time.

FP follows her, leans against the doorframe. “You know, it’s not a Christmas family movie night if you don’t watch the movie.”

Alice merely shoots him a glare as she gently organizes her cutlery. “No funny business. Our kids and my grandkids are in the next room.”

“Look who has a dirty mind,” he taunts. “Actually, I just wanted to give you your present. Away from prying eyes, you know.” He pulls out a nondescript white box from behind his back. “Sorry it’s not wrapped.”

“That’s okay,” Alice seems almost shocked. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.”

“I wanted to. It’s what friends do,” he hands her the box. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get me anything. That would be awkward.”

“I was going to wait…” Alice sighs before turning on her heel. “I’ll be right back.”

She runs out to her bedroom and returns with a beautifully wrapped package.  “Open it. You first.”

FP almost feels bad tearing into the ribbon she had curled so carefully. Alice doesn’t seem to mind thought. She watches eagerly as he pulls back the red paper to find a tea cozy. But there’s more hidden underneath the wrapping paper.

“Holy shit, this is good quality stuff,” he looks up at her in awe. 

A wide variety of drawing pencils, a sketchbook, charcoal, graphite  and other sketching supplies.

“I realized I don’t know if you still draw,” she says softly. “It would be a shame if you didn’t.”

“Thank you. This is perfect,” FP swallows. His mouth is suddenly very dry. “Now I’m starting to regret what I got you.”

“I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Alice laughs and he braces himself for her reaction. 

Alice lifts the lid, looks between FP and the gift and then back at him. Her silence makes him panic. 

She is supposed to laugh. 

Maybe he misread the situation. Maybe she isn’t into it like FP thought she would be and she'll be calling the sheriff to lock him up for sexual harassment. 

“A vibrator?” she whispers harshly. “You got me a vibrator?”

He swallows. He can't tell if she's confused or pissed or both. They often go hand in hand. 

“Read the tag,” he says hoping it will clear something up.

“ _ For when I can't be there to satisfy your needs. _ Subtle, FP. Real subtle,” she raises an eyebrow. “Well considering we don’t live in the same town anymore, I’m sure I’ll find plenty of use for this.”

She does. 

 

-

 

Betty and Jughead celebrate the New Year at the Pembroke while Alice and FP ring it in in Greendale. They trade in sparklers and party blowers for handcuffs and glow-in -the-dark condoms.

“I haven't had that much fun in ages,” Her glistening chest is rising and falling as she catches her breath. They’re both completely naked, and she has no idea where the bed sheets ended up. Truthfully, she doesn’t care. 

“Since Thanksgiving?” he grins.

“Sounds about right,” she props herself on her elbow and shoots him a wicked grin. “Hey, want to test out the vibrator you got me?”

FP’s eyes widen. “I was wondering if you’ve used it yet.”

“It’s amazing. Best gift I’ve ever received,” Alice rummages around in her bedside table. Finding what she’s looking for, she pulls out the toy and hands it to FP. “Go on. Try it out.”

He sits there for a moment caught in a daze. “You’re killing me, Alice.”

FP’s voice is deep and raw and it’s just adding fuel to the fire already burning inside her. She hooks her leg over his hip and settles herself on top of him. “Good. Now you know how it feels.”

 

-

 

Alice thinks resolutions are stupid. She knows she’ll stick to them for a week, maybe two, before her normal routine sets in and the gym membership she intended on using gets lost among the other cards in her wallet. 

She doesn’t have much of a choice this year. Polly's on a self improvement kick and is determined to take everyone with her on her  _ journey of self-discovery.   _ She left the farm and headed to San Francisco and is determined to make it as a lifestyle guru. Her instagram page is full of amateur photographs captioned with personal details about the hardships she’s overcome. 

Betty tries not to say anything, but Alice can tell she doesn’t approve of her older sister putting her soul online for others to judge. Instead, her youngest child fills her time with friends, school and her new job at that creepy bookstore. At least Betty stopped inserting herself into the middle of active murder investigations.

So it comes as a surprise when the two girls team up.

“I’m not saying that I agree with everything Polly says, but she does have a point.”

“Your sister thinks that the fluoride in water is responsible to the increase in cancer rates,” Alice points out bluntly. If only Polly put her imagination towards something more productive. 

“That is one of her crazier theories, yes,” Betty grimaces. “But she’s not wrong about the resolution thing. Maybe you should consider making some this year.”

“And why would I do that?” Alice scoffs.

“Because all you do is work. It’s not healthy.”

“I do other things!”

“Crocheting doesn’t count!” Betty exclaims exasperated.

Alice crosses her arms. “I don’t understand why you are so interested in how I spend my time, Elizabeth.”

“Because I’m worried about you!” Betty snaps. Alice’s anger dissipates and she reaches for her daughter, but Betty isn’t having any of it.  “Mom, before I leave for college, I need to make sure you’ll be okay,” Betty wipes a stray tear with the back of her hand. “I can’t bear to leave you in Greendale on your own.”

“Betty, it’s not your job to worry about me,” Alice’s voice cracks.

“Whose job is it then?” Betty asks. “Your life isn’t in Riverdale anymore and you haven’t made any new friends since we’ve moved here and it was your idea to move here! Who’s going to be there when I’m gone and Polly’s gallivanting across California?”

Betty’s words cut deep because they are true. 

“You have to understand that it’s hard for adults to make friends, especially in a town like Greendale,” Alice tries to explain.

“But mom, you’re not even trying,” Betty’s shoulders slump. “All I’m asking is for you to open yourself up to the possibility of new people in your life. That’s all.”

 

-

 

FP Junior  
  
Hey Al, haven’t heard from you in a while. Hope work isn’t kicking your ass too hard! Are you free Friday? The Bijou is playing Buster Keaton movies with LIVE music!  
  
Sorry, I kind of have a date on Friday.  
  
Oh? A date? Who’s the lucky man?  
  
His name is Eugene. He’s a teacher.  
  
...Eugene?  
  
Shut up Forsythe.  
  
Touche  


  


-

 

On Friday night, Alice’s phone vibrates while she’s out with Eugene.

FP Junior  
  
By the way, I signed you up for the Pond Hockey Tournament.  
  
What????  
  
FP you better be joking  
  
FP??????  
  
Don't ignore me!  
  
Damn it FP!  


  


 

-

  
  


“Take me off the roster, FP, or so help me God.”

Even though he can’t see her frosty glare, or the way she’s punctuating each word a jab of her hand, the irritation dripping through the phone lets FP know that he may have messed up big this time.

Alice had never let her daughters participate in the annual Pond Hockey Tournament for fear of them falling through, so she watched from the sidelines.  _ Somebody _ had to report on the ridiculous event.

Not this year. This year she doesn't have the Riverdale Register to hide behind and although Greendale has a presence at the tournament, local sports doesn't fall under her purview. FP knows for a fact that her time is spent uncovering the witch trials of olde. 

“You won’t have to play! You can sit on the bench the entire game!” FP protests. “Why are you even calling me? Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” he’s genuinely curious. 

“I told him something came up,” she says tersely. “Which it did. I’m not playing in that stupid tournament.”

FP raises an amused eyebrow.  He tries to be serious, but he can’t help the mirth that bleeds into his words. “What was wrong with Eugene? Does he live with his mother? Is he a mouth-breather?”

“Eugene is a perfectly nice man, if you must know,” she snaps.

“He sounds boring,” FP teases. Her silence speaks volumes. He’s absolutely giddy at the revelation. “Oh my god, he’s boring! Is that why you’re talking to me instead of rocking Eugene’s world?”

“Okay fine. He was a bit tedious,” Alice reluctantly confesses. “I don’t know how Betty stays awake in his class!”

“He’s her teacher? You didn’t tell me that!” FP gasps. “You’ve cursed Betty’s entire academic career!”

“Nah, he’s too nice to take it out on my kid,” says flippantly He can't help but let out a chuckle. “I know, I’m awful, FP, aren’t I?”

“Alice, you’re not awful. Don’t even think that,” he says seriously. “I have a question though. Why  _ did  _ you go out with him?”

He hears her soft sigh. “Because he asked and because I told Betty I’d open myself up to possibilities,” Alice says and he imagines her shrugging it away. “You know, all I could think of was how I would have rather been at the Bijou.”

“You live and you learn,” FP says with more wisdom than he has any business having. “Now that you know that I’m more fun than Eugene, you’ll play in the hockey tournament?”

He can imagine her wincing. “God no.”

“Come on, Alice. All you have to do is wear a jersey and sit on the bench. You won’t even have to skate.”

He can tell that last part intrigues her.

“Go on…”

“Alice, I know how much you hate skating on the water, so I promise I’ll make it up to you in any way you want.”

“Anyway I want?” Is it just him, or did her voice seem breathier than usual? “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I fully intend on following through,” FP’s mouth is suddenly very very dry.

“Two games. I’ll sit on the bench for a maximum of two games and I'm not stepping on the ice,” she declares. “And then we are leaving and you are going make it up to me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

FP is a man of his word. When the day of the tournament comes around, Alice watches the agreed upon games before they sneak away and FP gives her participation awards in the form of multiple orgasms. 

 

-

  
  


They accidentally spend Valentine's together. 

It’s not like it's planned or anything. In fact, Alice had originally gone to Riverdale to meet an informant; her trip had absolutely had nothing to do with FP. But her informant chickened out due to the snow and didn’t bother to tell her until after she had crossed the bridge of Sweetwater River.

Instead of turning around, she takes the opportunity stop by her old stomping grounds. A steaming cup of coffee is the perfect winter antidote, and if FP happens to be working, that’s a bonus since she hasn’t had time to see him since the Pond Hockey Tournament. By the time she crosses Pop’s parking lot, there is snow dust in her hair, her fingers are cold, and the the tip of her nose is probably red from Jack Frost. 

The bell rings announcing her arrival, and FP, a brilliant smile crosses his face when his eyes take her in. Her stomach does somersaults she chooses to ignore.

“Alice! What the hell are you doing here?”

She sidles up to the counter and takes a seat on the red stool. “I had an interview that got cancelled. Figured I’d stop by and say hi.”

He smirks and places a hot cup in front of her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she grins and takes a sip. It tastes as good as she remembers. “Since I’m here, can I get a look at that Speakeasy I keep hearing so much about?” 

FP’s eyes light up. “My lunch break is in 20. Can you stick around until then?”

“Keep my cup full and I’ll be happy.”

 

-

 

As promised, he brings her downstairs to show off the renovations he’s helped to complete. Alice  runs her fingers over the wooden panels on the refurbished bar and briefly wonders how it would feel to let him take her there

"You did this?”

“Some of it, yeah” he shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“I’m giving you a compliment. Just take it,,” Alice chastises lightly. “FP, this is truly amazing work.”

“It’s nothing really,” he scratches the back of his head. The tips of his ears are turning pink. “I didn't do much. Just followed Veronica’s instructions.”

“Oh, you’re so bashful FP,” Alice and FP turn at the sound of Veronica’s voice. Her dark coat is covered in a layer of snowflakes. She waltzes across the room and dramatically tosses her leather gloves on the countertop. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you and you know it.”

"I'm impressed,” Alice turns to the brunette. “You’ve done amazing work, Veronica. Truly.”

The girl beams.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I should probably head out now.” Alice glances at her watch. “Don’t want to get snowed in.”

“Too late for that,” Veronica chimes in. “What? Didn’t you hear? There was an accident on the bridge to Greendale so it’s closed until further notice.”

 

-

 

And that is how Alice ends up in the soup can he calls a trailer in the middle of a blizzard. It’s much to dangerous for anybody to be on the roads right now.

“Jughead’s crashing at the Serpent Den,” FP collapses onto the couch next to her. She winces at the name. Is that what they’re calling her old house nowadays? 

“Good. I’m glad he’s safe,” she says. “Betty knows not to expect me until tomorrow. Thanks for letting me stay again.”

“Anytime.” FP rubs his neck; his hair's all rumpled from his hat, and Alice can't help but think he looks kind of delicious. 

They sit together awkwardly on his couch for a moment, and oh,  _ what the hell _ . "Wanna have sex?”

His lips are on hers in record time. "God, yes."

 

-

 

She’s curled into his chest, tracing the jellybean tattoo over his heart while his fingers play with her messy curls. 

“You know, Alice, it’s Valentine’s Day,” his voice rumbles through her. She had purposefully forgotten. Didn’t want to waste time feeling sorry for herself. 

“So it is,” she props herself onto her elbows and arches an eyebrow. “Does this mean I’m your Valentine?”

FP mirrors her expression, raises his own bemused eyebrow. “I thought I made it obvious.”

“Maybe not obvious enough.”

“I’ll have to remedy that,” he says before flipping her over and pinning her arms above her head.

Alice giggles. “This is the least romantic Valentine’s Day ever.”

And as she says it, she realizes it’s true, but it doesn’t make it any less amazing in its own right. Hal did every romantic thing in the book. He gave her chocolates and roses and a bed surrounded by candles. In return, she gave him head and wore underwear that would make a dominatrix blush. It was nice at first, but after the first few years it became a stale tradition she didn’t have the heart to break. 

FP nuzzles her neck, just below her ear. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” she gasps at the feel of his beard scratching her skin. “Romance is overrated. This is way more fun.”

She feels him grin. “I think so too.”

 

-

 

The next morning, Jughead tumbles in, dragging a fresh pile of snow into the trailer. Alice is sitting at the kitchen table, wearing an old hoodie and sweatpants that are much too big for her. She is nursing a hot mug, and carefully brings a finger to her lips.

“Your dad’s still sleeping.”

“It’s fine. He can sleep through anything,” Jughead laughs as he kicks off his snow covered boots. He rushes into the living room to grab his backpack. “I’m glad you two didn’t end up murdering each other. Betty was worried.”

“Please. Give us some credit. We’re adults,” Alice says flippantly.

“That’s what I said!” Jughead puts his boots back on and opens the door. He turns back to Alice. “It’s so weird seeing you in his clothes.”

Alice almost chokes. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just used to pantsuits,” he back-pedals while fiddling with the strap over his shoulder. “I’m glad you and my dad are friends now.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Alice blinks because what else is she supposed to do with that?

 

-

 

FP wakes up in an empty trailer. The only trace of Alice is the neatly written note she left on his kitchen table.

_ Sorry for leaving without saying bye. A work thing came up. Thanks for letting me stay the night, and for the sweater (which I'm keeping by the way.) _

_ P.S. What the hell did you do with my underwear??? If they fall into the wrong hands, I will end you. _

 

_ - _


	3. Spring

The snow is starting to melt, the birds are flying back, and Alice and FP continue to occasionally have sex with each other. It doesn’t happen often - when FP is passing through Greendale to pick up supplies for Fred or Veronica, or when Alice is in Riverdale following up with an informant, or when Betty, Jughead and their friends go into The City for the weekend leaving Alice and FP bored and alone with each other. 

Nothing really changes which is par for the course in small town America.

Sometimes FP thinks that maybe he should tell Jughead about him and Alice. But there isn’t really a “him and Alice” in the first place so there isn’t a reason to talk to him about it, right? They’re just friends. 

It's not like Jug informs FP each time he goes for milkshakes with Archie. And it’s not like Jug has ever indicated that he cares when FP goes for breakfast with Fred and Keller. So really, why would he mention it if he meets Alice for coffee on his day off?  It’s totally irrelevant if he ends up finding himself between her legs.

They’re having too much fun and she’s just so amazing and most importantly, she doesn’t seem to have any complaints. He's not about to ruin a good thing. They've come too far.

But then Jughead stumbles across some ripped up pantyhose underneath the front seat of the truck.

“Dad, what the hell?”’ the 17-year-old barges into the trailer, aggressively waving the tights in the air. 

FP frowns a little. “What’s going on?”

“I found these in the truck,” Jughead’s nose scrunches up as he tosses the tights at his father. “I can’t believe you. You’re still married!”

FP feels his shoulder tense. “Boy, don’t give me that. You know the divorce will be official soon.”

“No, I know,” Jughead sighs and readjusts his beanie. “It’s just - and I don’t mean to be a dick about it - I thought you’d tell me if you were seeing someone,” Jughead cringes as a thought crosses his mind. “Oh god, you’re not one of Madame Blossom’s clients, are you?”

“What? No! Absolutely not!” FP protests. At his son’s skeptical eyebrow, he adds “I swear, Jug. No brothels. No secret girlfriend.”

Jughead shifts uncomfortably. “So that-” he gestures to the tights, “-wasn’t serious?”

This whole construction-foreman-by-day and Speakeasy-manager-by-night situation must be messing with FP’s circadian rhythms and also his sanity because he almost tells his son that he’s been sleeping with Alice. He almost blurts it out right there in the middle of his living room because it's  _ Jughead _ , his  _ son _ , and because FP has no restraint when it comes to Alice. 

_ Alice _ . Who just so happen to be his son’s girlfriend’s mom. 

The thought of the look of disgust and disappointment on Jughead’s face stops FP from saying anything stupid. 

“The tights was a one time thing,” FP shrugs nonchalantly. Jughead flinches. “Hey, you’re the one who asked!”

 

-

 

He texts Alice as a courtesy to warn her that her tights had been located. FP keeps his phone close, jumping right away to answer it when it buzzes. 

  
  
FYI, Jug found your tights. Good news is he doesn’t know they’re yours. Bad news is he thinks I’m a womanizing jerk.  
  
Shit. I’m so sorry. Thanks for taking the fall.  
  
Any luck with my missing earring?  
  
Not yet... Are we still on for  Tuesday?  
  
Wouldn't miss it!  
  


_ - _

The snow is gone by the end of March. The stench of mud and manure from neighbouring farms linger in the air but the promise of warmth makes it bearable.

And then Betty buys herself a bright yellow volkswagen much to Alice’s irritation. 

“It just appeared in my driveway!” Alice exclaims into the phone. “I can’t believe Betty blew her hard-earned money and part of her dirty Blossom inheritance on a  _ lemon _ ! FP, she didn’t even consult me!”

“Do you really think that would have changed anything? You know Betty. There’s no stopping her once she sets her sights on something.” 

Alice sighs. “I hate that you’re right.”

She fully expects him to gloat but FP surprises her.

“Don’t worry so much, Al. Betty knows her cars. There’s no way in hell that your daughter bought a lemon.”

Alice grimaces. “Maybe so, but it’s still bright yellow and hideous to look at.”

FP laughs and it makes her crack a small smile. “At least it’s distinct? You’ll know if she’s not where she’s supposed to be.”

“I guess,” she allows herself a giggle. “Thanks, FP. I feel better.”

“Glad to hear it,” she hears some shuffling over the line. “Listen, I gotta get back to work now. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let me keep you,” Alice says. “Have a good shift!”

 

-

 

It’s the week before Easter and Alice reluctantly allows Betty to drive to Riverdale and stay the night. As uncomfortable as she is about Betty’s trip, there is another part of Alice that is quite excited to have the house to herself and go to bed early for the first time in recent memory. 

Then her phone blows up. Vibrating and lighting up her dark room, she’s so close to throwing the blasted contraption against the wall. But it might be urgent. 

Seven missed texts from FP. 

She frowns, hoping he’s just flooding her with snake memes again.

She rolls over, grabs her glasses and scrolls through them, squinting as she tries to decipher the gibberish he sent. 

He better not be drinking.

Her phone buzzes again. This time it’s from Betty. 

_ Mom, don’t freak out, but can you come to the trailer? It’s FP. _

Alice frowns. In the history of telling someone to not freak out, has anybody succeeded in  _ not freaking out _ ?

_ What’s going on?  _ Alice sends the response and waits for Betty with baited breath.

_ It’s the anniversary of when Gladys left. _

Alice is on her feet grabbing her keys and rainboots. She doesn’t even bother to put on a bra or change out of her nightgown before venturing into the damp spring night. 

_ I’m on my way. _

 

-

 

Without bothering to knock, Alice bursts into the trailer. The stereo can be heard from outside. The repetitive call of the snare drums and synths are already making her ears bleed. 

“Thank God you’re here,” Betty yells over the music. 

She’s about to question the teenagers further when she catches sight of him.

That man in the middle of the living room can not be FP. It can’t possibly be. Not her FP. Not her sarcastic, leather clad, former biker gang leader FP.

“Is he  _ dancing _ ?” she squeaks. 

If whatever he’s doing with his arms can be considered dancing.

It’s so very very un-FP she doesn’t know what to think of it.

Jughead nods sagely. “It’s called flossing. Sweat Pea taught him.”

“This is an improvement. He was doing the macarena earlier,” Betty chimes in. “Did you know he knows all the words to ‘Hollaback Girl’?”

Alice has never been more confused in her life. She quickly snaps back into interrogation mode to gather all the relevant facts. “Do we know what he's on? Jingle jangle? MDMA?”

Jughead shakes his head vigorously. “He's just really drunk. There's no sign of any drug paraphernalia and besides my dad doesn't  _ do _ drugs.”

That's good. Reassuring. 

“Normally when he drinks he just passes out. I’ve never seen him like this.” 

That’s… less reassuring.

“His tolerance likely isn’t what it used to be,” Alice thinks aloud. She turns to the teens. “I'll handle FP. You two go crash at the Serpent Den, or with Archie for the night.”

“Mom, we’re not leaving FP! He needs us!” Betty protests. 

“Listen, I know you want to help, but I've got this. FP would never forgive me if I let you two babysit him through the night!”

Jughead and Betty share a defeated look. “Okay fine. But Mom, promise you'll call if you need anything.”

FP finally takes notice of her arrival and starts dancing over. “Alice! You’re here!”

“I promise,” Alice sticks up her pinky before shooing Betty and Jughead out the door. “Cross my heart and all that. Now get out of here.”

The door shuts behind them and she turns her attention to FP.

“You need to drink water.”

“I don’t want water. I want to dance!” FP attempts to twirl, instead falling down onto the couch with soft thud. “Or tequila. Oh yeah! I have tequila! And limes!” 

"Limes are for wimps,” Alice crosses her arms.  

“Hey! Don’t wimp-shame me. Not all of us can be as tough as you.”

"I’m not that tough,” she takes a seat next to him. 

“I know. But you’re  _ really _ good at pretending,” he sighs, leaning heavily against her, and she can't remember the last time she saw him this drunk. To be fair, she hadn’t been privy to these moments for many years. She hadn’t wanted to be. "Now that you don’t yell at me as much, you’re really fun to hang out with. You're like my best friend.”

"Oh? Isn’t Fred your best friend?”

“I guess, but I don’t want to have sex with Fred."

"Got it," she rolls her eyes. He’s really plastered, and as much as she wants to shake the booze out of his system, she knows that her disappointment can wait until morning. 

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and strokes his short hair with her nails. It’s weird to think that at some point they became friends again. He understands her in a way that no one else really does. She doesn't have to pretend to be something she's not when she’s with him.

(Plus he’s committed felonies for her. That really helps in the development and strengthening of friendship.) 

"You're my best friend too, FP,” she admits softly.

“I’m your best friend?” he’s staring at her with glassy eyes. “Alice, that’s really sad.”

“Hey!”

“I’m not good best friend material,” FP sighs. He shifts and places his head in her lap. “I hate to break it to you, but I kinda really suck.”

“You don’t suck,” Alice protests gently and she knows that won’t do anything to relieve the years of self-hated he’s learned to live with. She tries anyway because he’s breaking her heart. “I’d do anything for you.”

He’s grinning that stupid dopey drunk grin and she almost regrets saying anything. “ _Anything_?”

“You know what I mean,” she lets out an exaggerated sigh and gets onto her feet. She reaches for his hand and pulls him up. “Maybe we should go to the bedroom.”

She meant so he can sleep it off. 

Instead, he’s pressing sloppy drunk kisses all over her face like a dog. “Yes, let’s do that. Let go to my bed.”

Alice laughs at his crazy antics and wipes his spit off her cheeks because there isn’t really anything else to do. She helps him to his bed -he’s surprisingly cooperative- where he collapses and kicks off his socks unceremoniously.

“I’m sorry, Alice,” he mumbles. He’s sitting against his headboard and his eyes are closing drowsily. “I’m _ really _ drunk.”

“Don’t worry about it, FP, really,” she reassures him before stepping out and reappearing with a glass of water and stale bread in hand. “Eat this.”

He pushes her hand away. “I didn’t want you to ever see me like this.”

“You’ve seen me at my worst before,” she shrugs. It was barely a year ago when the man she thought was her son killed another man in her house. “We’re friends. It’s what we do.”

FP doesn’t respond to that. She didn’t think he would.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Alice watches him expectedly. “Why were you drinking?”

He doesn’t say anything; just sips his water and nibbles at his bread.

“I know it’s the anniversary of when Gladys left,” she pushes gently. “Anniversaries are never easy, and I know you must miss her and Jellybean-.”

“She’s not coming back,” he says suddenly.

“Who? Gladys?”

He shakes his head, turns his hand in hers and laces her fingers through his. “No, Jellybean.  I haven’t seen her in two years. She was supposed to come for Easter but she changed her mind. Probably because she thinks I’m just another deadbeat dad.”

“FP-”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” he looks up at her, the disappointment evident in his eyes. “I’m a shitty dad.”

“FP, listen to me,” Alice says firmly. “You are not a shitty dad. Yeah, maybe you’ve made some questionable decisions, but who hasn’t? I know I have. But FP, you  _ try. _ You try harder than most, you  _ always _ put your kids first, and they know you love them unconditionally.”

“Is that enough?” he looks so lost and she wishes she had the answers he craved. 

“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s all we’ve got to go on,” Alice shrugs. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” FP squeezes her hand lazily and yawns. “Will you be here in the morning?”

She smiles softly at this and brushes his knuckles with her lips. “If you want me to be.”

“I do, I always do,” his eyes flutter as he continues his fight against the sandman. “Please, Alice, stay.”

“Okay,” she doesn’t need much more convincing before climbing under the covers and snuggling against him. She lets herself enjoy the moment because she knows the sun will be accompanied by emotional complications.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest soon lulls her to sleep.

 

-

 

FP awakens to a marching band playing in his skull. He opens his eyes only to immediately regret it when the sunlight burns his corneas. 

His muddled brain vaguely registers Alice lying behind him, her arm draped around his waist. 

FP tries opening his eyes again, this time letting out a loud groan and a string of curses at the pain shooting into his brain.

“You deserve that,” she murmurs into his shoulder. 

“I know,” he gently trances her knuckles with his fingertips. He can’t believe she’s still here. “Are you going to yell at me?”

“No.”

“Why not? I deserve it.”

His mouth is so dry it feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton balls. It’s a lovely reminder of the months of sobriety gone to waste. What the hell was he thinking last night? 

FP untangles himself from Alice’s embrace and rolls onto his other side to face her wrath. “Are you mad?”

He’s prepared for judgement, anger, even a holier-than-thou attitude. He’s had years of experience dealing with those moods. 

He doesn’t expect to look into her eyes and see such  _ sadness _ . This is new. And it’s gut wrenching and he  _ hates  _ himself for hurting her. 

“I’m not mad,” she cups his cheek. “I’m just… disappointed.”

That is so much worse. 

“I’m sorry, Alice. I’m so so sorry,” he pulls her into a hug and kisses the crown of her head. “Thank you for dealing with me.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

 

-

 

When he’s able to eat without his food making a reappearance, Alice pulls out her glasses and a small notebook from her purse. If FP was a little less hungover, he would have taken the opportunity to ask Alice to play out his library fantasy. 

(Maybe once the aftertaste of regret and shame fades away.)

Alice peers at him over her dark frames.“We’re making a plan for when you find yourself wanting to drink again.”

FP runs a hand through his beard. “Yeah okay.”

AA meetings in the old church basement aren’t an option anymore. He supposes he could seek out meetings in Greendale or Centreville, but the towns were not big enough for them to ever be truly  _ anonymous _ . 

“Fred’s usually my go-to when I get a craving,” he offers. “I try not to bring Jug into it.”

“And if Fred isn’t available?” she asks pointedly. “Will you call me?”

“I guess.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Her questions catches him off guard. He feels like she just punched the air out of him.  “I… I didn’t want to bother you.”

“FP, you are my friend, my  _ best _ friend,” she states simply. “We take care of our own.”

 

-

It’s a 11 o’clock on a Thursday night and Alice hasn’t talked to FP since Sunday when she called to complain about how her eldest daughter hasn’t called in a month. It’s the longest she’s gone without hearing his voice since the night he got drunk.

It’s like their friend confessions allowed them to be more open with each other. He’s only explicitly called twice asking her to keep his mind off things. She soon finds that she calls FP just as often as he calls her. They talk about nothing and everything. 

Tonight, Betty’s already in bed, and she can’t follow suit because it’s the full moon and strange things are bound to happen in the Greendale Woods. 

But right now, she’s got nothing to do while she waits for a scoop. She scrolls through Netflix categories, nothing catches her eye. All she can think about is how much more fun she’d be having if FP were there. They don’t even need to have sex. She’d be okay with cuddling on the couch, but she shoves that thought away because she’s not going down that winding emotional road right now. 

Alice makes a decision, scrolls through the contact list on her phone.

"Hello?” FP answers. "What's up, Alice?"

"Oh, you know..." She bites her lip, and there's an awkward silence. A thought suddenly occurs to her. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “So what are you up to tonight?”

She hears him suck in a breath. "Honestly, I was just thinking of you."

Alice considers this. "Are your pants still on?"

He laughs, and the sound makes her smile a little. "Yeah…”

"Take them off,” she commands. “And tell me  _ exactly _ what you were thinking about.”

 

-

 

There’s probably something in the spring air that has her hormones out of whack. 

Sometimes her brain reminds her that Jughead found her tights. That fact rattles in the back of her mind when she lets herself think for too long. This whole thing with FP is starting make her feel like they’re lying to the kids. It was one thing when they were falling into bed when they crossed paths, but now… Their meetings are premeditated and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore whatever it is they’re doing. 

FP brings it up first. 

It’s mid-morning and FP uses his keys to sneak in during off-hours and fulfill Alice’s fantasy of having sex on the bar.

It’s better than she had imagined. 

Alice is pulling up her jeans when FP kisses her lips. God, how does he do these things to her? 

FP moves his attention down to her neck. One of her hands pulls on his hair. 

“Round 2?” it comes out breathier than she had anticipated. 

FP pulls back, looks at her in that way that makes her heart jump.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says suddenly self-conscious.

“I’m sorry… It’s just…” he sighs. “Is it weird that nobody else knows about this?”

Cold panic flows through her, but Alice shoves it away almost instantly. "A little. Why? Do you want to tell the kids?"

“I don’t know. Maybe. What would we even say?”

“‘Hey kids, we’re fuck buddies!’” Alice winces. “That will not go over well.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” FP says. She’s never seen him so serious. She almost feels bad for making light of the situation.

“I know.”

Complicated in the only word for it. She and FP have decades worth of baggage that they’ve only just started to unpack. And if Betty and Jughead find out, they would investigate and analyze and ask questions that Alice doesn’t know how to answer. Then she’d be forced into thinking about it and she really really doesn’t want to. Not to mention, every time she and FP would go anywhere together, everybody would give them unwelcome knowing looks.

On top of that, they have to deal with the fact that their children are happily dating and that those children unknowingly shared a sibling. She’d never do anything to intentionally hurt Betty and telling her about FP would do just that.

FP leans into her, forehead pressing against hers. “It’s up to you.”

“I don’t want this to change,” Alice whispers. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He pulls her towards him. winds his arms around her. She can feel the soft tickle of his beard against her cheek. 

“You won’t.”

 


	4. Summer

FP falling asleep on her couch while binging Netflix shows has become such a regular occurrence that Betty never questions his presence at the breakfast table. The first and only time it came up was when Betty came home from the bookstore to find her boyfriend’s dad/ her mom’s new best friend snoring on the couch.

She examines the situation with a slight furrow to her brow. Her mother was nowhere to be found. 

“Oh there you are, Betty,” Alice breezes into the living room holding a cup of tea. “How was work?”

“Good,” Betty blinks. “What’s FP doing on our couch?”

“We were watching a movie and he fell asleep,” Alice explains. “I tried to wake him up, but poor FP is so exhausted. I won’t allow him to drive back to Riverdale in this condition. Fatigue is as bad - if not worse- than drunk driving.”

“Good call. Wouldn’t want him hitting a deer.”

Alice will never admit it but she is incredibly relieved that Betty didn’t push the issue. That she didn’t wonder why Taco Tuesdays are escalating into sleepovers, or why she’s finding it harder and harder to part with him at the end of the day. 

 

-

 

The days are at their longest and FP, Betty and Alice are eating breakfast as they normally do. 

“So what did you get up to last night?” Betty asks innocently in between sips of orange juice. “How was - what did you call it? -  _ Freedom Fest _ ?”

Alice cringes. “I never called it that. That was all FP.”

“What?” FP looks up, feigning hurt, as he douses his waffles in maple syrup. “You’ve been divorced for a few weeks now, and mine has finally gone through.  _ F _ reedom Fest is an accurate name.”

Alice ignores him and turns to her daughter. “To answer your question, Elizabeth, we watched  _ The First Wives Club _ and fell asleep by 10. The sun was still up.”

She leaves out the part where they paused the movie three times because they kept getting  _ distracted _ . 

“Are you serious? That’s what you did the night FP’s divorce was finalized?” Betty laughs. “You guys are wild.”

“Your mom hasn’t had a wild night out since before you were born,” FP chuckles between bites.

“Shut up, FP.”

Betty giggles. “Oh, do go on.”

“The stories I can tell…”

“Don’t you dare!” she warns.

“She had a studded belt and these fingerless gloves-”

“FP!” Alice snaps before shoving a waffle in his mouth with a triumphant smirk. “That’s enough. You don’t want to take advantage of my hospitality, otherwise you might find yourself in the  _ doghouse _ .”

 

-

It’s the height of construction season and FP is working insane hours. She sees him when he can, but most of the time they end up doing nothing together. She takes what she can get. 

Sometimes they cuddle in bed without having had sex first and she has to shut down the part of her brain that’s screaming at her that friends don’t do what they’re doing.

-

 

Betty manages to get a week off from her internship, so Alice and her daughters and grandbabies cross the border into Canada. It was Polly’s idea to go camping.

(“Like we used to as kids! It’ll be so much fun for Dagwood and Juniper!”). 

Alice had always hated it, but she will do anything for her family and that includes putting up with black flies and outhouses for a week.

Honestly, Alice hadn't realized how much she had been relying on FP for entertainment. She keeps finding herself reaching for her phone to send him a quick message, only to be reminded that she can’t text internationally without acquiring a massive phone bill. They also don’t have internet which means she can’t even check her email. 

Polly says it will cleanse the soul. 

Alice wonders when her daughter became such a hippie.

She really misses wifi and her other Western privileges. 

And FP. She really misses FP. 

It’s just that he’s the first person she wants to send the picture of this weird mushroom she found while hiking, he’s the one she wants to call when her tent has a leak in it, and he’s the one she wants to know everything about. But she can’t do that from the middle of the woods in Canada.

-

 

There are a bunch of kids hanging out in his trailer when FP arrives home from work. He doesn’t complain; it means the like being there. He remembers doing everything to avoid going back to his own home. There’s a giant pizza on his coffee table. Veronica and Archie on the couch, while Jughead fiddles with the antenna on the tv. 

“There’s some mail for you!” he calls over his shoulder. 

FP groans, expecting a pile of bills and junk but on the top is a postcard. It’s decorated with trees, a lonely bridge, and the words “1000 Islands” in comic sans across the top.

He turns it over in his hand, immediately recognizing the delicate script.

 

_ FP - this place is absolutely beautiful. Such beautiful trails… and Polly may have been right about feeling cleansed - don’t ever tell her that I admitted that. The twins are loving it here. They’re our new running coaches in fact. I’m the most fit I’ve ever been from chasing after them. I don’t know how Polly does it.  _

_ Miss you. Wish you were here, _

_ Alice.  _

 

FP is staring at the postcard like an idiot trying to come to terms that _Alice_ sent him a _postcard_ and wrote that she missed him. It's a piece of Alice that she's never shared before, and it's for him.

“Dad?” 

FP looks up to find three teenagers staring quizzically at him.

Jughead takes a step towards him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired,” he turns to Archie. “Your old man has me working hard.”

Jughead looks at him funny, but thankfully his inquisitive nature takes a backseat for once in his life.

-  
  


The next time FP sees Alice is four days later while he’s wiping the counter at Pop’s. 

  
The bell rings and he looks up to see her strut in the diner like she owns the place. The woman has always known how to make an entrance. She pushes her sunglasses onto the top of her head, scanning the place and smiling when her gaze falls on him. 

Canada must have been very nice because she looks relaxed and content. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of her next leaving her peeling shoulders on display. She's wearing a floral romper and her wedge sandals make make her golden legs go on forever.

Has it only been 10 days since he’d seen her? It feels like a lifetime. 

“Guess who’s back?” she grins mischievously as she slides onto a stool. “Did you miss me?”

He knows she’s kidding, but he can’t help but think that simple question feels so important. “Of course I did. Thanks for the postcard by the way.”

“Did you stick on your wall?”

“Next to your mugshot.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why you keep that up there.”

“It’s not like I have any other pictures to put up,” FP shrugs and his heart jumps at the shocked look in her eye. “So are you here to distract me, or are you going to order something?”

“How about both?” she licks her lips. “A milkshake to start, and then we can play it by ear.”

“You sly sly snake,” FP grins. “Coming right up.

 

-

 

She knows she has developed a problem. An addiction. 

Being in the middle of nowhere, alone with her thoughts for a week made Alice hyperaware of how much she thinks of FP. Why did she think messing around with FP was a good idea? It was fun an all, but it wasn’t a good idea when they were 16, and it’s an even worse idea now that they’re in their 40s.

While she waits for her milkshake, she finds herself admiring his backside as he bends over in those tight white pants to pick up dirty plates. She makes a decision because this is getting out of hand. 

This isn't healthy. 

From the corner of her eye, she sees FP joking around with the high school guidance counsellor while he takes her order. 

“I see Ms Burble is still around,” she mentions casually while eyeing him over her milkshake. “I'm surprised. Riverdale High doesn't have a great track record with guidance counsellors.”

FP chuckles. “She’s still here. No signs of going on stress leave anytime soon. Actually, Jug’s her number one fan. She’s helping him with scholarship applications.”

Alice stirs her milkshake pensively with her straw. “You should ask her out.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf? I said you should ask her out,” she replies calmly. 

FP’s looking at her like she's grown another head. “Did the fresh Canadian air make you crazier than usual? Why the hell would I ask my  _ kid’s guidance counsellor _ on a date?”

“Because it’s what single people do.”

Something unknown and dark flashes in his eyes and it makes her stomach curl. It makes her wish she could take back the words that caused the hurt for even the briefest of moments. And before he says what he’s going to say, she’s changing the subject and asking about the new sandwich on the menu.

-

She meant to erect some boundaries but after his shift, but he pins her against her car and she forgets about her plan to talk to him. And later, she doesn’t stop him when they’re in his bed and he’s pulling down her underwear with his teeth. 

When she collapses onto the bed, after being thoroughly satisfied she turns to him and says, “We need to stop doing this.”

“What do you mean?” his fingertips are running up and down her Serpent tattoo.

“We can’t keep having sex all the time. It’s messing with our ability to foster new relationships.”

FP’s hands pause. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she smiles brilliantly at him. That was a lot easier than she had thought. “Still friends?”

“Always.”

 

-

 

  
  
Hey FP, still on for swimming at Sweetwater tomorrow?  
  
Sorry I can’t anymore. Work is crazy?  
  
Ok, no problem. Next time!  
  


 

 

  
  
Want to come over with Jug for pizza night?  
  
Sorry can’t today. Raincheque?  
  


 

 

  
  
I haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything okay?  
  
I’m fine. Just busy.  
  
You know I’m here if you ever want to talk about anything.  
Yeah I know, thanks.  
  


 

 

  
  
What the hell is your problem? Why are you ghosting me? Can you stop acting like a child and tell me what the hell I did for you to keep blowing me off?  
  
You’re the one who wanted space  
  
Call me when you get over yourself.  
  


-

 

It’s the third Tuesday in a row that doesn’t involve eating tacos with FP. Alice hates to admit that she kinda gets the appeal of alcoholism now. Drinking is the only way she can stop feeling so damn much.

Keeping track of the number of drinks that she’s had only serves to make her aware of her hypocrisy. Alice spent years admonishing FP and others like him for turning to the bottle for comfort. Now here she is fighting with the cork of some shitty wine somebody had undoubtedly regifted to her at Christmas. 

“Mom?” Betty scowls from the kitchen doorway and crosses her arms over her pjs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get this cork off,” Alice says bluntly. It shouldn’t be this difficult.  “God damn it,” she curses as it slips in her hand again. She tosses it aside and selects another bottle from the cabinet, this time with a screw-top.

“How much have you had?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Alice says flippantly.

Betty places a gentle hand over hers. “I think that’s enough. ” 

She wants to snap at Betty. Tell her to stop getting involved in things she doesn’t understand, but it’s her _ kid  _ staring at her with worried eyes and Alice can’t bring herself to protest anymore. No child should ever have act like the parent and she hates herself for putting Betty in this position.

“I’m sorry, Betty.”

Alice reluctantly lets go of the bottle and lets her daughter lead her wobbling legs to the living room. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Betty asks as she curls her legs under her.

Alice shakes her head. “No offence, Betty. This is not part of your jurisdiction.”c

“ _ No offence _ , mom,” Betty harshly echoes her words back to her, “you need to find better coping mechanisms. You know better! You’ve seen what alcohol can do to a person… what it did to FP.”

“I know. I just…” Alice pauses, waves her hands around as though that will help her find the words. “FP’s mad at me and I don’t know why.”

“You can talk to me,”  Betty prompts softly. “I know you’ve been secretly dating.”

“What are you talking about?” Alice looks up quizzically. “Betty, I’m not dating FP. We’re just friends.”

“Come on, you haven’t exactly been discreet about it. I mean, Jug found your tights and earrings in FP’s truck. Plus, you talk to FP like everyday and you disappear for hours when your days off line up. And don't tell me you're just friends when you've been drowning your sorrows because of him.”

Alice merely blinks, doesn’t know what to do with that. “Betty, I-”

“Why didn’t you tell us? We’re cool with it...” Betty trails off as something dawns on her. “Oh god. You honestly believe you’re just friends.”

Alice is not stupid; she knows her feelings for FP aren't platonic, and she’s not sure they ever were. But she also knows that whatever she feels is pretty hopeless so she's trying bury it back down. 

"I can’t to go down that road with him again,” Alice confesses tearfully. “I’ve fallen in and out of love with FP before and it’s always ended badly. It’s always the same thing over and over again and it always ends with him breaking my heart. Why did I let myself think that it would be different this time?”

“Maybe because it _ is _ different,” Betty responds so quietly Alice almost misses it. “You’re _ both  _ different but you’re treating it like it’s the same situation from when you were younger.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom, you clearly have feelings for FP but you refuse to commit to him because of whatever went down in the past. If you want to be with FP, you’re going to have to let go of all that baggage.”

“What if he can’t forgive me?”

“Mom,” Betty says suddenly, “do you know what he named you in his phone?”

Alice shakes her head. 

“You’re a white rabbit emoji.”

“White Rabbit? Like from  _ Alice in Wonderland _ ?”

Betty nods. “He’ll follow you anywhere.”

 

-

 

FP awakes at the crack of dawn to furious knocking on his door. Groaning, he rolls out of bed and opens the blasted door. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and curses as a blurry head of blonde hair comes barging past.

“Alice? What the hell?

Anger is quickly replaced with concern when he takes in her appearance. She’s still in her silk nightgown, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks stained with tears. “What’s going on?”

“I fucked up, FP, and now you’re mad at me and it’s been tearing me up and-.”

“Al-” he takes a step toward her but she shrinks away.

“Please, FP. Let me finish,” she raises a hand and he obeys without questions. “I miss you, FP. I miss having you in my life, I miss what we had and I’m sorry I strung you along all this time.”

“You didn’t string me along. You were clear from the beginning.”

“No, I wasn’t!” she breathes, as though trying to collect her racing thought. “I pushed you away because I was scared of calling it anything more than friendship. I was terrified of the unknown. But there are two things I know for certain. I know that we’re not the same dumb kids we were when we first got together in high school. And I know that I can’t stop loving you no matter how hard I try.”

FP isn’t sure if he heard her right or if this is just another dream. “You love me?”

“I do,” she confesses, eyes cast downward. “And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I just needed to be honest for once.”

FP’s never been very eloquent. He’s no Jughead or Betty or Alice. He just barely passed English in his senior year. Right now it feels like nothing he says will be enough, that it won’t do his ever-growing feelings justice.

So he takes a step toward the woman in front of him, gently grabs ahold of the crook of her elbow and guides her towards his chest. She looks up in surprise as his arm snakes around her waist and the other is placed in her hair holding her steady. He leans in close, and is encourage by her hand against his chest. He feels Alice’s breath still and brushes his nose against hers, her eyelids fluttering at the faint contact.

“Of course I feel the same. I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” he murmurs. God, it feels good to say out loud. “Alice, I need to know you’re all in. I can’t do halfway with you. Not again, not anymore. It’s too painful.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” she says tearfully. “I want everything you’re willing to give. I’m ready to go all in because I love you and I’m sick of pretending that I’m not.”

He’ll never get tired of hearing her say those three words.

“I love you so much, Alice,” FP whispers before he captures her lips with his own. 

In no time at all, they’re lost in each other as her hands tagle in his hair and his hands roam over her soft curves. The kiss is becoming more fervent and intoxicating, and it takes everything in FP to pull away. 

“Does this mean we can tell the kids?”

Alice laughs.  

“They already know,” she rises on her tiptoes and gives him a soft peck. At his frown she adds, “Turns out we’re not as discreet as we thought we were. Betty says they’re okay with it.”

“Oh, thank god," he blurts. “That’s one less thing to worry about.”

And then his hands are on her shoulders steering her toward his bedroom where FP plans on showing Alice exactly what she means to him.

-

“What are you thinking about, Alice?”

“Just thinking about time…” Alice turns onto her stomach and rests on her elbows, admires FP’s bare form beside her. “A year ago I was still living in Riverdale, it felt like my life was falling apart, and we were just starting to find our way back to each other. Now I live in Greendale, I’m in love and I’ve never been happier.”

“A lot can change in a year,” FP cups her cheek. “Where do you think we’ll be this time next year?”

“I don’t know, but we'll find out together.”

   

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it to the end of this instalment. 
> 
> Special thanks to Veridissima aka thestagthatlovedthewolf on tumblr for dealing with my super vague and random requests for input... even though you had only watched Riverdale like the week before. I wouldn't have been able to flesh this fic out - let alone write it - without you.


End file.
